


The Grooviest Thing

by rabbitxheart



Series: Fallout Drabbles and Short Stories [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff, someone pls give the man a pet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:48:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5902447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitxheart/pseuds/rabbitxheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is that... is that a ghoulified cat? What the fuck? Am I ODing?” He gasps, watching as Nora extends a hand to it. The kitten meows, and she rubs it's head.</p><p>“They're called Sphynxes, they're just born without hair.”</p><p>“This is the best day ever.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grooviest Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Title shamelessly stolen from the Lovecats by the Cure because I'm a big sap. More naked cats for the people. 
> 
> Inspired by [this post](http://daincrediblegg.tumblr.com/post/138623229384). :)

“Wait, what was that?”

“What was what?” Nora stands up abruptly, readying her shotgun again. She was so sure there were only seven raiders in the house, and there are currently seven corpses on the ground.

“Thought I saw something,” Hancock says, sneaking into the little room the raider leader had come out of. “ _Holy shit!_ ” He yelps.

“What?” Nora says, bursting in through the door, only to sigh deeply when she sees it. “For fuck's sake Hancock, don't scare me like that.”

“Is that... is that a ghoulified cat? What the fuck? Am I ODing?” He gasps, watching as Nora extends a hand to it. The kitten meows, and she rubs it's head.

“They're called Sphynxes, they're just born without hair.”

“This is the best day _ever_.”

 

Hancock sits down, and the cat immediately crawls into his lap and sits down, purring like a generator.

“Ooooohmygod why is it _so soft_.” Hancock groans and the kitten meows, rubbing its head against Hancock's stomach. “I think it likes me,” he says.

“Uh-huh.” Nora's biting her lip, trying not to laugh.

“This little fella's not gonna last long with nobody to feed it.” He looks up at her, resolute as if she's going to tell him he can't have it, even if it followed him home. “I'm keepin' it.”

“Uh-huh,” she says again, and now she can't hold the smile back. “You're such a softie, you know that?”

“I've stabbed three men _to death_ in the past ten minutes!” Hancock says, indignant. It's a little difficult to look menacing with a hairless kitten squirming in your hands.

“I think I have a scarf somewhere,” Nora says, completely ignoring what he says, but Hancock simply picks the cat up and tucks it in under his shirt. This up close, it purrs even harder, pawing at his chest.

“I'll carry it, we're not that far from Goodneighbor. Wait, is it a girl or a boy?”

“Lemme see... Oh, you have a boy.”

“I need to come up with a name.” He frowns. “Before Fahrenheit does it for me.”

Nora just smiles at them, shaking her head.

 

They walk into Goodneighbor just before sundown, the cat still purring against his chest. He's a little warmer than most people, as ghouls tend to be, and the cat seems to be loving it.

“What do I feed him?” Hancock asks, suddenly a little unsure. “I've never had a pet.”

Nora tilts her head, her features going very soft.

“Fish, bird meat. He'll probably like scrambled eggs, too.”

“Shit. I'm gonna need something for him to piss in, aren't I?”

Nora snorts.

“Just find a good box and use saw dust. We can try and find a real litter box next time we're out looting stuff. There used to be a pet store not too far from here.” She reaches out, strokes his arm reassuringly. “You're gonna do great, don't worry 'bout it. I've had five cats, I'll help.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Hancock nods to himself, and decides to go show Daisy the little ball of wrinkles he's found.

 

“He looks like a ballsack,” Fahrenheit snorts.

“Fuck off,” Hancock says without any heat. “Holy shit, this one can eat,” he chuckles, watching as the cat gobbles down all of his eggs and radstag at record speed.

“You should name him Garfield.”

“Garfield?” He looks up at Nora, frowning.

“Oh, right.” She sighs. “Pre-war cartoon cat that ate everything.”

“Nah. I wanna name him something after Hancock. If we're gonna match,” he says, and he can pretty much _hear_ Fahrenheit roll her eyes from the doorway. “Then we're gonna _match_.”

“He was born in Quincy?” Nora shrugs. Hancock looks at the cat again, who's now full and jumps up curl up on his chest for a food coma nap. Hancock absentmindedly starts petting him, letting him sneak in under his shirt.

“He does look like a Quincy. That's a nice name, love.”

“Then there you have it,” Nora says, reaching out to pet him, too, a little color in her cheeks.

  
  


He becomes something of a mascot in Goodneighbor, mostly because very few of its inhabitants have ever had pets of their own. Quincy roams the Statehouse as he wishes, sometimes Hancock brings him outside to visit Daisy or just to walk around, exploring the settlement. Nora sometimes wishes she had a working camera, because it's obvious the cat loves Hancock as much as Hancock loves the cat as they stroll through Goodneighbor, rarely separating more than a few feet.

Quincy sleeps in Hancock's bed with him, curled close, and she can tell Hancock sleeps better, seems more rested when he wakes up.

“You know, that cat is ugly as shit,” Fahrenheit says as they clean their guns for lack of better things to do. “And I never thought a _pet_ would be the pick-me-up he needed, but..”

“Yeah,” Nora agrees, glancing at Hancock's sleeping form across the room.

  
  


“Hey Hancock,” she says as she walks into the room later that same day, just about ready to head for the Castle. “Have you seen that leather bag I found?”

“Yeeeeaaah, why?” Hancock sounds incredibly guilty. Nora turns to look at him, and he's holding something behind his back. Something _meowing_.

“What did you do?”

“I may have repurposed that. A little.” He holds Quincy up, and. Well. “Look!”

The little tricorn hat is already askew, Quincy batting at it and trying to get it off while Hancock holds him close enough for Nora to see how alike they look.

“Oh my god, Hancock,” Nora wheezes, almost doubling over from laughing. “How did you even make that?”

“Fahrenheit helped me. But never tell anyone that she can sow, I think Quincy would become an orphan.”

“I think his ears are in the way.”

“Well, he has ears enough for the both of us, so. Don't ya?” He says, giving Quincy a kiss, and Quincy goes from trying to get the hat off to licking at Hancock's chin.

 

“You take good care of my cat, you hear?” He says, looking at Fahrenheit.

“Can't be too hard,” Fahrenheit shrugs.

“Something happens to him and I'll kill you.”

Fahrenheit stops and looks at him for a second.

“You know, normally I'd call bullshit, but I actually believe you.”

“You fucking better,” he says with a smile, and bends down to pick Quincy up. “And you? You run my town now. Make me proud, kiddo. You're my only heir after all.”

Fahrenheit looks at Nora, mouths _I cannot fucking believe_ , and Nora just chuckles.

 

It does kind of make sense that when _it_ happens, it involves Quincy.

No, really. She should have known.

 

“Hey, Hancock?” She calls out to him as she reaches the top of the stairs. He hums, all attention turned to Quincy, who's growing up to become quite big. Both as in adult and as in fat. They all spoil him, Fahrenheit included.

“I found that pet store. It had a litter box.”

“Yeah? Nice.”

“I got some other stuff as well.”

“What'd you find?”

“Some stuff with feathers, food bowls. Also...” She picks out one of the balls from the backpack and rolls it across the floor, sending Quincy after it like lightning.

“Hell yeah,” Hancock chuckles, standing up and turning to her.

“And I found this,” she says, pulling out the jackpot. She hands the little red turtleneck to Hancock, whose jaw has literally dropped. “I know it's not an exact match, but it'll keep him warm. With the tricorn...”

“I fucking love you,” he blurts out, and immediately seems to realize what he's said. “I did _not_ mean to tell you that.”

“Are you taking it back?” She says, frowning.

“D'you want me to?” Hancock is standing still the way he does when he tries to assess how much danger they're in.

“I really don't,” she admits, and Hancock smiles, just a small, private smile, and relaxes. It only takes a few steps for him to be in her space, closer than she's ever had him.

  
Quincy curls up in the space between their stomachs on the bed later, just as they're slowly falling asleep.

“You are kind of cute,” Nora mumbles to him, petting his ears as he starts purring.

 

Yeah. She could get used to this.

 


End file.
